


Equations In The Sky

by SparkleMoose



Series: Various WoL in Eos [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Final Fantasy XIV Fusion, And Have Chilled out Considerably Since the WoL Last Fought Them, Ascian Bullshit, Eos is basically Eorzea in the FUTURE, M/M, Magical Realism, Or FFXIV took over my life so I'm fusing two obsessions together, Reincarnation, The Primals Basically Became the Astrals Via Some Aether Bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 05:17:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17739731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/pseuds/SparkleMoose
Summary: Julian died.He doesn't stay dead. The Astrals; the Primals he had once slain, can think of no one better to fix their mistakes than the man who gave everything for balance.For peace.





	Equations In The Sky

In the end, he should have seen it coming, should have known that no power comes without sacrifice. He should have known that he would not survive what was to come and that if he did, he would not come back the back the same.

Julian should have known that he would be the one to fall to grant the land peace.

He dies with the taste of copper in his mouth.

Julian dies with Y’shtola trying her damnedest to heal him and tears gathering in her eyes when she realizes that nothing she can do, no magic that she has learned will be able to save him from the dark he took into his body to maintain the balance.

Julian dies with Urianger staring at him as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing and he dies with Lyse choking back sobs beside him, begging him to stay.

Julian dies with his head in Thancred’s lap and Thancred demanding that he stay awake just a little longer. Please, Julian, you can’t die. Not like this-

Julian smiles at the man staring down at him, he smiles at the friends, the family he had found among the Scions.

He doesn’t dare think of Aymeric. Doesn’t dare think of the man he loves for if he did his strength in the face of death would shatter.

  
Julian smiles still and breathes his last as dawn breaks over the sky.

* * *

Galahd falls when Julian is eight.

Galahd falls and Julian is eight and helpless and screaming as his parents are cut down. Galahd falls and Julian stumbles through the rubble of his home and remembers.

He’s taken back thousands of years to Eorzea, taken back to when he was strong and deadly. Julian is taken back to a time when he had a family of friends who were there for him always.

Julian remembers politics and betrayal and love and happiness.

Julian remembers death and starts to cry.

* * *

He doesn’t remember being shuffled onto a boat by one of his elderly neighbours. Doesn’t remember more than brief flashes of the ride to the mainland.

Julian remembers his fathers beads though, remembers the white topaz with a phoenix etched into it. They’re a familiar weight in his palm, bringing with them a sort of comfort that Julian knows he won’t find again.

Julian threads a strand of leather cord through them and ties them around his neck. The beads are the last things he has of his family.

The last things he has of what he was before he remembered.

* * *

Somehow he makes it to Insomnia where he’s placed in an orphanage. They hope to get rid of him quickly, Julian thinks, staring at the face of the Headmaster. They hope to get rid of the wartorn orphan that landed on their doorstep as quickly as possible.

Julian blinks at the Headmaster, and slowly, an idea starts to form.

* * *

Julian hates school, hates the way the other students look down on him for being an orphan, for being a refugee. He hates how he is seen as remarkable for his marks, how the teachers look at him as though they are surprised that a Galahdian could be one of their top students.

Julian hates school, but he hates the orphanage and how those looking for children always look at him with pity even more. If they had known what he has gone through, what he had done on Eorzea would they look at him the same? Would they still see a child instead of a warrior?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care to find out.

* * *

Julian meets the Prince when he is mentoring a class of seventh graders. The Prince is near the window, staring at Julian as though he’s curious as to what someone his age could teach.

Noctis’ gaze catch on the beads around Julian’s neck and Julian’s eyes widen as for the first time in this life, he’s dragged into the past.

_Three humans stand in front of the Crystal._

_Three humans stand in front of a fragment of the planet, twisted and warped to serve the new Gods and Bahamut appears in a flash of swords and light._

_‘Ardyn Lucis Caelum,’ The Primal - Astral, Julian corrects himself - says, ‘You have been judged and found wanting. The Crystal rejects your plea for kingship. The Dark you have fought for so long has tainted you; has rendered your light useless.’_

_There’s a scream, and the wine haired man falls to his knees; his skin grey and_ tears _black._

_‘Somnus Lucis Caelum,’ Bahamut intones, ‘You and yours will safeguard the Crystal till the King of Light comes to claim his throne and vanquish the dark.’_

The scene ends, and Julian blinks as the classroom he’s in came back into focus.

“Sorry,” he says to the class staring at him, “Migraine.” He waves their questions off and continues going over what the classes teacher had them reviewing.

That night, Julian goes back to his room in the orphanage.

That night, for the first time since he came back from the dead, he uses magic to conjure a simple ball of light.

Julian smiles and continues to practice. He’s never been one to stand idly by, he doesn’t see why he should do nothing even if it isn’t his job to mantle the title Lightbringer in this life.

* * *

He graduates from college at sixteen with a Masters in Literature. By then he’s been published in several magazines, has more than a few books to his name and is well known as one of Insomnia’s brightest.

When he’s sixteen he leaves the orphanage, the court has ruled that he’s able to live on his own.

When he’s sixteen, he’s offered a job from the King.

When he’s sixteen, Julian manages to summonFleur for the first time. The Carbuncle sees him and pounces on him as a cat does to a mouse.

Julian laughs, loud and happy as he catches his longtime companion and lets her climb on him.

“Miss me?” he asks. Fleur’s response is to nuzzle into his neck.

Julian shakes his head, careful not to jostle his friend and smiles.

* * *

There are several things Julian never expected to happen to him. He never expected to become an archivist and librarian for the King at the age of sixteen, never expected to strike up a tentative friendship with the Crown Prince’s advisor after they struck up a conversation about ancient Lucian poetry, hell, he never expected to be reborn after he died but that had happened and should have honestly set the tone for his life. But most of all, Julian certainly never expected for said Crown Prince to wander into his library with a friend and ask for help regarding a math problem.

Julian blinks, eyes wide as he stares at the prince. “Are you certain you want my help?”

“Uh,” Noctis shifts nervously, “Yeah? I mean, Ignis is caught up doing official things and Gladio makes fun of us whenever we ask for help so- will you? Help us that is?”

Julian suppresses a smirk and shakes his head. “Ignis told you about me didn’t he?” Julian asks, not putting it past his friend to tell the prince about the librarian that was a supposed genius.

“He did.”

Julian laughs.

“Of course,” he muses, “Well, I can hardly let his recommendation go to waste. Why don’t you two show me the questions you’re having trouble with and I’ll see if I can help.”

One thing Julian has learned is that no matter where you are, no matter what world you get reborn into, one thing is the same and that is the basics of math.

They hesitantly show Julian the problem they are having trouble with and Julian sets to work helping explain things to them in a way he hopes makes sense.

Judging by the look in their eyes, it does.

* * *

After their impromptu study session the Prince keeps coming back, sometimes with his friend, sometimes without.

When Julian asks Ignis about it, Ignis huffs a laugh.

“His Highness says that both he and Prompto find your explanations to make more sense than those of his teachers. Particularly regarding math.”

Julian snorts. “Is that so?”

“Indeed.” Ignis raises an eyebrow. “One would think your doctorate was in math rather than Literature.”

Julian outright laughs at that.

“Maybe so,” he says, amused, “But I’ve always had a knack for math, Ignis. Perhaps I should have pursued that instead.”

“I hear His Majesty is always looking for skilled engineers,” Ignis says, a teasing glint in his eyes, “Perhaps you should go back to school.”

“Not in this lifetime.” Julian shakes his head, “I’ve enough of school to last a lifetime.”

“Says the seventeen-year-old,” Ignis says dryly.

Julian grins. “Says the seventeen-year-old with a Ph.D.”

* * *

Noctis groans. Frustrated with the concept of geometry no matter how many times Julian or Prompto try and explain the relationships between shapes to him.

Julian shares a look with Prompto, at a loss about what to do with the prince. Shapes and numbers had always come easily to Julian, it’s one of the reasons in his past life he had delved so deeply into magic. It’s why he delved so deeply into the realm of arcanmia when the arts of conjuring and dark magic failed to hold his interest.

An idea strikes Julian at that moment, and he turns his attention back to Noctis.

“Highness,” Julian says, ignoring Noctis’ mutter of ‘Don’t call me that.’, “Would I be wrong in assuming that your problem with geometry lies not with the shapes itself but with the algebra involved in the equations?”

Noctis furrows his brow. “No,” Noctis admits, “You wouldn’t be. It’s just- I can understand simple shapes but as soon as we get to complex shapes I’m lost.”

Julian tilts his head to the side. “Would I be wrong,” he says slowly, “Assuming that your magic involves a degree of calculation? That you must take into account the amount of oxygen in a room when casting flames? Or that when summoning ice you must draw on a certain amount of moisture in the air?”

Noctis’ mouth gapes as he stares at Julian before he quickly places the mask of royalty back on his face. “You wouldn’t be wrong,” Noctis admits, his eyes narrowing as Prompto makes a startled noise, “But how does that help?”

“Think of the shapes and their equations as a spell,” Julian advises, “If you need to find the surface area of a compound figure than don’t think of them as whole figures. Break them down into parts as you would with the world before you cast a spell. If this-” Julian gestures to the figure on Noctis math sheet. “-Is made out of two rectangles and a square then think of it as two rectangles and a square and using the calculations you’ve either found or been given find the area of the base figures separately and then add them up.”

A light enters Noctis eyes.

“It’d be like casting a spell,” he says excitedly, “I’d be breaking the figure down then adding it back up and making something else.”

“Wait, hold up,” Prompto says, scrunching his nose in a way that Julian will not admit to finding adorable, “Are you telling me that math can be applied to magic?”

“Math can be applied to anything,” Julian says primly, “You just have to know how to use it.”

* * *

After Julian’s impromptu lesson on math and magic, he gets a visit from the Prince’s Shield. He squints up at the man who towers above him and raises an eyebrow when the Shield continues to scrutinize him.

“You’re the one that helped Noctis with his magic, then?” Gladio asks, his voice deep and booming and Julian refuses to find it attractive.

“I helped him with math,” Julian corrects, “If he’s begun to apply mathematics to his magic work than that’s all his doing, not mine.”

Gladio raises an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause he told me that you’re the one that helped him with his magic.”

“If I helped it was unintentionally.”

Gladio raises an eyebrow. “If that’s true, then maybe you can ‘help’ some more by watching a practice session between Noctis and I?”

“Are you inviting me to a Crownsguard training session?”

“And if I am?”

“Then I accept your invitation,” Julian says, a sharp smirk crossing his face, “After all, who would I be if I refused?”

* * *

When Julian enters the training room that is reserved for the royal family and those closest to it he isn’t surprised to see that Ignis, as well as the Prince and Gladio are already there.

“Ignis,” Julian greets as he comes to stand by the other man just as Noctis and Gladio finish their warm-ups.

“Julian,” Ignis returns, “Gladio told me you would be coming. I must say that this is the last place I could picture you in.”

Julian laughs, fully aware of how he looks. Of how the beige cardigan over a white button-up paired with a pair of slacks makes him look. He looks like someone who has embraced his role as a librarian entirely.

He would be lying if he said that isn’t intentional. He dresses to be comfortable and to look as non-threatening as possible.

“And here I thought that you of all people would know that Gladio invited me.”

“For your intuitive take on mathematics and magic, I take it?”

“I suppose that Noctis told you about that?”

“Rather Gladio did,” Ignis admits, a wry smirk pulling his lips, “It seems that Noctis is scared of what my opinion of you would be.”

Julian laughs then and on the floor Noctis and Gladio clash against each other with live steel. “Here I thought you were the one that told him about me.”

“And throw to you the task of tutoring my wayward charge?” Ignis says, “Never.”

“Despite your tone, I actually believe you,” Julian muses, “Could be that he remembered me from when I taught his class.”

“Oh?” Ignis asks, curious, “I wasn't aware you were a teacher.”

“It was while I was in college,” Julian says, “I was asked to take over for a Language Arts teacher. Just so happened that that teacher was the Prince’s.” Julian’s eyes narrow as he watches Gladio. The man uses his bulk to his advantage certainly, but there are times he seems to use it overmuch. Meanwhile Noctis is smaller, faster, yet he leaves himself over when he goes to warp and that could be deadly in a fight.

“Ignis,” Julian asks, “You’ve studied tactics, yes?”

“Of course.”

“What do you see when they fight?” Julian asks, “It seems to me that Gladio uses his bulk to his advantage, as he should, but he uses it in a way that becomes repetitive. I would only need to discern the pattern of his movements and then-” Julian points to the unguarded upper torso that Gladio leaves open as he swings his sword, “-a slim blade would be able to pierce his guard easily when he swings downward.”

“I didn’t know you could fight,” Ignis says, voice neutral.

Julian laughs. “I have some training,” he admits, “The journey to Insomnia was rough. In order to increase our chance of survival the adults of our group trained us to fight as best they could.”

It’s not a lie per say, the adults Julian had traveled with had tried to train the children they were in charge of. But that’s not where Julian’s particular set of skill comes from, his past life and the skills he learned from it ring clearly in his mind and the magic he’s been honing on his own for years now makes him deadly as any trained Glaive.

Ignis doesn’t need to know that.

Ignis makes an interested noise as their attention is diverted back to the ongoing spar.

“You’re right,” Ignis says after a moment, “And Noctis leaves himself open when he warps.”

Julian nods. “I wouldn’t advise warping unless it is to close ranks on an enemy or he has someone to cover him.”

“He has Gladio,” Ignis says.

“And he has you.”

Something softens in Ignis’ eyes. “Of course he does.”

Julian hides a smile and watches as the match ends.

* * *

Somehow the advice he and Ignis give Gladio and Noctis prompts both the Shield and Prince to invite Julian to observe more of their practices.

“You have a good eye,” Noctis shrugs when Julian asks why he invited him, “It’s like having another Ignis around.”

Julian isn’t sure he should take that as a compliment.

One night, after returning to his apartment in the Galahdian District, Julian stops just as he closes the door behind him.

In front of him, holding a staring contest with Fleur, is a blue Carbuncle that Julian is certain he never summoned.

"Who," Julian begins as the other Carbuncble turns to look at him, "Are you?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> help me i did a Worldbuild.


End file.
